


Becoming

by Din_Harlow



Series: An Arachnid's Tale [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, Homecoming, Irondad, Not canon compliant-ish, Tags to be added, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Din_Harlow/pseuds/Din_Harlow
Summary: What if Peter Parker scored an internship at Stark Industries before becoming Spider-Man? How would the story change?Peter Parker is 14 when he wins an internship at SI, gets bitten by a radioactive spider, and finds himself desperately trying to shake Iron Man, his mentor, from Spider-Man’s trail.All in all, an incredibly productive year.
Series: An Arachnid's Tale [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708411
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Becoming

_ Get out of the rain, get out of the rain, get out of the rain.  _

This was the ongoing mantra scrolling through Peter’s mind as the 14 year old asthmatic hurried down the congested streets of upstate New York. 

Glasses fogging up and blurring his already terrible vision, Peter gripped the strap of his backpack tightly and prayed he wouldn’t end up hit by a car. Knowing his Parker Luck, it was always possible. Anything could happen. 

As it was, he would have waited for either Ben or May to pick him up if it hadn’t been for construction causing drastic slow downs and crazy detours or backups. 

What was he doing in midtown Manhattan in the first place? 

Photography. 

It  _ was  _ for a school assignment but now he was sincerely regretting having come. When the storm blew in, releasing buckets of rain onto the city below and soaking poor Peter to the bone, the teen found himself wishing he'd checked the forecast before leaving. Lightning flashed and thunder bellowed loudly, echoing in his ears and making him jump every now and again. It didn’t help that it was absolutely freezing! It was early January, after all. Thankfully, there was no snow. Boy did Peter hate snow. 

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Peter impatiently waited for the lights at the intersection to turn red so he could cross. Several other pedestrians crowded around him, more joining the conglomeration of people gathering and making him uneasy and claustrophobic. He disliked crowds. It didn’t help that people in New York had no sense of space and certainly had no respect for Peter’s carefully crafted bubble. 

Only a select few were allowed to invade his space. Those few consisted of Ben, May, and Ned. That was it. No one else. 

Heaving a shuddering sigh, Peter hugged himself tightly and peered out from beneath his drenched hood to see if the light had changed. 

Nope. 

Shivering, Peter pursed his lips together and debated on what to do. He could seek shelter from a nearby building but he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t be kicked out. This  _ was  _ Manhattan. He'd only been here a handful of times. Not to mention Peter would feel awkward and way out of his element if he chose to loiter about in a random place’s lobby. 

The red hand on the traffic light flicked off and Peter darted to the other side of the road without hesitation. The swarm of people followed forcing the teen to jog in order to stay ahead of them. 

The rain grew heavier and more condense, slamming mercilessly on the poor boy and completely saturating his clothes until they clung uncomfortably to his skin. Peter cursed and took a sharp right. He disappeared down a sidewalk and hurried into a tall building. He wasn’t sure what industry-owned Tower it was since the top was shrouded by looming thunderheads, but he hoped they were friendly and wouldn’t mind him seeking shelter from the storm. 

He politely made his way past a few business folk and well-dressed pedestrians, excusing himself when he’d accidentally bumped into someone, then slipped in through the open doors just as they were closing. 

His dark, bambi browns immediately darted about the enormous and extravagant lobby he found himself in, shocked and slack-jawed. 

This place was…

_ Insane!  _

The ceiling was awfully high and the style outrageously expensive-looking. Peter huddled into himself, biting his lower lip when he realized that he stuck out like a sore thumb. His ratty jacket, Midtown Tech T-Shirt, jeans, and old converse definitely clashed against the polished and distinguished business outfits everyone else wore. 

Perhaps he should find another place to stay in? 

“Are you waiting for someone, hun?” A kind voice inquired nearby, mildly breaking into his thoughts. Peter whipped his head round to find a young woman dressed in a straight black pencil skirt, white button-up shirt, and dark jacket standing adjacent to him. Her hair was a dark reddish brown pulled back into a loose bun with a pen stuck through it, holding it into place. The sherry shade complemented her burgundy eyes and served to accentuate the genuine warmth and amiability swirling within them. The gentle curve of her lips subconsciously helped Peter to relax and settle his jumbling nerves. 

“Um, no- I mean yes, er, kind of?” Peter replied, shifting awkwardly in place. He flushed at his disjointed answer and peeked at the woman from beneath his hood. He quickly shucked it down, appalled by his lack of politeness. 

The woman inclined her head at the endearingly disheveled teen, her smile growing. 

Peter hurried to explain, “Sorry, um, you see, I was, erm, waiting for either my aunt or uncle to come pick me up-” He lifted his camera secured around his neck, presenting it to her, “I was taking some photos and lost track of time, I guess, and then it started pouring outside and, well, I was...wondering if I might be able to stay here until it clears up a bit?” His pitch lilted up at the end and he tentatively met the woman’s considering gaze. 

She gave him a reassuring nod and touched his shoulder with her hand, “But of course, hun,” She said, and Peter wilted in relief, “Come with me and we’ll move someplace warmer, hm?” 

“That sounds great! Fantastic really,” Peter grinned, pushing his glasses back when they slipped down the bridge of his nose. The woman chuckled.

“Wonderful,” She gently led the still shivering teen to a space with comfortable, cushioned, chairs and gestured for him to take a seat, “Here you are, sweetie. Stay for as long as you need. I’d rather you not be out and about in the storm while waiting for your guardians.” 

“Oh, um, thank you,” Peter flashed her a smile and shucked his backpack off to drop beside the chair he’d chosen. 

“Think nothing of it,” The woman replied with ease, patting his shoulder one last time. Peter watched her sweep away, grateful for her kindness. 

_That wasn’t too horrible,_ he supposed. At least he didn’t make a fool of himself. When faced with strangers or unexpected company, Peter often turned into a stuttering mess. He tripped over his words or rambled, stitching together dissimilar thoughts mid-sentence and confounding his listeners. 

He was the embodiment of awkward and dorky, unfortunately. Aunt May found it charming and adorable. Others found it strange and cringe-worthy. Peter himself fell in the latter category. 

Peter expelled a breath and glanced down at his camera. He tugged his foggy glasses off and set them aside on the table, squinting when his vision blurred. 

He heaved a forlorn sigh and tiredly rifled through his backpack for his case. Upon finding it, he pulled it free from his cluster of school texts and notebooks and flicked the box open to fetch the cleaning rag. 

With great care, Peter meticulously scrubbed the lenses until they shone clear. He replaced the rag into the case, dropped it into his backpack, then slipped the glasses on. 

“Oh, wow!” Peter remarked to himself, blinking to adjust his eyes, “I can see again!” 

It was ridiculous how blind he was. The reminder sucked. 

Shrugging aside his disappointment, Peter set to work setting up his camera and sifting through the photos he’d taken. He worked on determining which to turn in for his assignment and which to toss or download onto a separate file. Once finished, he figured he ought to complete the rest of his homework. 

With a small grunt, Peter pulled his chemistry textbook from his backpack and dropped it on the table in front of him with a thud. 

_ "Whew boy,” _ the fourteen year old breathed, brow creasing in resignation, “Midtown’s dead set on killing us,” He muttered. His gaze flicked to the list of problems assigned for the next day and set to work on finishing it. 

He could have scoffed at the simplicity of it all. He breezed through the problems without having to read the text and swiftly covered an entire page of his notebook with various equations and formulas. 

He moved onto math. Then English. Then Spanish. 

Peter dropped his head into his hand, boredly doodling in the margins of his homework. None of it was challenging for him. School was terribly dull. He spent seven hours everyday trying to find something to occupy his drifting mind. 

He stared blankly ahead, watching a couple employees step into an elevator and others taking the spiraling stairs. 

He was surprised when he discovered no one was really fazed by his presence. Some would glance over and he’d get a couple of curious looks but no one truly paid him any mind. They all went about their day, completing whatever mundane or important tasks they had to do.

What Peter wouldn’t give to have  _ something _ to do during his free time. He was half tempted to ask if he could run random errands but he figured they probably wouldn’t accept his help since he didn’t work for whatever company the building belonged to. 

With his homework done, Peter was left to scroll listlessly through his phone, scanning the internet and downloading memes to send to Ned or recording interesting facts he discovered online. 

He was jolted from his thoughts when a heavy packet was suddenly dropped beside him. The poor teen startled, jerking his attention away from his phone, and looked sharply to see who’d so rudely disturbed his peace. 

There was nobody there. 

Confusion flitted across his features and Peter looked around the lobby in search of the owner of the file. 

No one but him occupied the space. 

Why on earth would someone dump loads of important papers next to him and then leave? That was nothing if not irresponsible. 

Deciding it wasn’t worth his time, Peter went back to browsing through his phone, studiously ignoring the file lying nearest him. He bit his lower lip hard, struggling to quell his rising curiosity and bafflement.

He failed  _ splendidly. _

His gaze would often drift to the file taunting him in the corner of his eye before snapping forcefully back to his phone. 

That file was practically begging for him to open it! 

He glanced at it again, pleasantly surprised to find it was already open. 

Well then… That was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. 

As discreetly as he could, Peter scanned the papers he could visibly see, perking up when he caught sight of difficult scientific equations and calculations scribbled about here and there. From what he could understand, it was the design for the prototype phone centered on the top page. There were little notes and reminders scrawled all around it, mentioning key parts and functions they were aiming for. 

Peter quickly deduced that whoever held these plans was trying to find a way to extend battery life and to slim down the phone size without fear of losing its capacity and functions. He reviewed the notes, calculations, and description keenly, his sharp mind quickly registering the information and spitting out solutions and suggestions. 

This was something Peter did often. 

He’d go dumpster diving for parts and use them to build computers, phones, DVD players, and even printers. Sometimes, he and Ned would combine their creative minds and make robots they would later pit against one another until both were smashed to smithereens. 

Tearing a page from his notebook, Peter threw himself into fixing the issues he found and upgrading the rough draft into a formidable final one. He added his own little tweaks and wrote short, concise, explanations for why his suggestions were worth a shot then drew a newly furnished design for the phone. 

He’d even slimmed the size down so it wasn’t as thick or bulky. His version would effortlessly maintain its capacity and functions, going as far as to extend battery life and speed of delivery. 

A quarter of an hour passed and only after Peter reviewed his work fifty bajillion times did he deem it done. 

With a triumphant nod, Peter clicked his pen against the table and hastily scribbled a little note. 

_I couldn’t help but notice your work (I mean, you literally left it there for me to see, which, can I say, wasn’t smart on your part at all. I mean, anyone could have seen and taken it!) so I made my own version of what you were looking for. It might not be what you want, but it’s something, right?_ _  
_ _  
__Good luck on your design!_ _  
_ _  
__Pete._

Satisfied, Peter gave his design one final look then slid the paper into the file and closed it. Afterwards, the teen shoved his textbooks and notebooks into his backpack and flung it over his shoulder. 

He glanced out the tall windows and frowned when he saw it was still raining. Not as hard as before, but he wasn’t looking forward to going back outside while it was still storming. 

Shrugging to himself, Peter shuffled away and jogged for the doors. 

Hopefully, either Ben or May would be on their way to fetch him soon. 

* * *

Unbeknownst to Peter, a man had been observing his every move. From the moment he’d entered the Tower to now, he’d been closely monitored.   
  
There was a swell of victory and pleasure when the teen took the bait he’d laid out for him and started reviewing the file. It was followed by a flicker of surprise when the kid all but brightened and proceeded to tear out a page from his notebook to scribble something on it. 

For fifteen minutes the teen worked tirelessly on whatever was on his mind and once he’d finished, the man watched as he gave a short nod of approval. He straightened in his seat, looked to make sure no one was watching, then slipped his paper into the file before swiftly closing it. 

Afterwards, he gathered his things, pushed his chair back, grabbed his backpack, and left. 

The man took this opportunity to go and see what the kid had left for him. He flicked the file open and took hold of the notebook paper, smiling faintly at the charming little note at the top. He scanned dark browns across it then jumped straight into reviewing the design and scouring the annotations. 

He raised his eyebrows, stunned by the impeccable work and flawless calculations. The entire draft was done so thoroughly and with careful consideration. Evidently, this boy had taken into account all that had been included on the test design and used the selective information included to create an entirely new prototype. 

His head shot up, dark brown eyes searching for the teen. 

This kid… From what he could see, this kid was brilliant! He’d taken a StarkTech design and modified it so it fit the qualifications SI had inputted as a challenge to her employees. 

Upon realizing the kid had left the building, the man gathered the file and rushed after him. He needed to find out who he was- ask him what he knew. He wanted to test the kid’s knowledge. The boy had piqued his curiosity, and if he didn’t catch up to him and learn his name, he wouldn’t be able to focus on his lab work. 

If that boy could whip together an entirely new phone in a handful of minutes, what else was he capable of? 

“Hey, kid!” He called loudly once he stepped foot outside. Some of his employees startled upon seeing him, random pedestrians stopping in shock and stunned disbelief before wildly searching for whoever he was calling to. 

The teen in question didn’t appear to hear him. Peering closer, the man discovered he had his headphones in and was strolling down the sidewalk towards the intersection. 

The man cursed, hurrying down the stairs and jogging in the hopes of catching up to him before he was gone for good. 

“Hey!” He tried again, making his way through the crowd gathering. Curse his reputation! It was times like this he wished it would simply disappear and stop causing him problems. _ “Pete!” _

Nothing. 

“Dammit,” The innovator all but growled when more people suddenly materialized, shocked and excited to see the one and only Tony Stark forcefully making his way through, “Kindly remove yourselves from the premises if you please!” He called out, uncaring if he came off as rude or impolite. “I’ve got a kid to catch!” 

Voices rose, some calling to him, others exclaiming in surprise. Cameras shuttered, bright lights flashed, and the volume of incessant chattering increased exponentially. 

The sidewalk suddenly became full, making it all but impossible for him to plough through. 

Fans…

Stark absolutely detested them. Especially when they were preventing him from getting to the kid! 

Looking ahead, Tony grit his teeth together when he found the oblivious teen waiting patiently for the light to change before he could cross. His head bobbed to the beat of his music, his foot tapped against the pavement, and he briefly glanced down to look at his phone.   
  
Why couldn’t he look back? Did he hear none of what was going on behind him? 

_ “KID!”  _ He shouted in the hopes of being heard above the roaring all around him. The compelling need to get the boy’s attention, to find out his name, where he lived, and what he was interested in was all he could focus on at the moment. 

Nothing else mattered. 

Not even the meeting Pepper said he absolutely had to attend. 

Tony stumbled when his foot caught on something sticking out in his path and an explosive of expletives spewed from him. He caught his balance- no thanks to the people swarming him- but when he looked, his heart sank. 

The teen was gone. 

“No no no,” He growled furiously, scanning up and down the road and shoving his way to the end of the crowd. He spun in a circle, looking to the right then to the left. 

The kid was nowhere in sight. 

Heaving a sigh full of disappointment, Stark ordered, 

“FRIDAY, track him down. Send me everything you find.” 

“On it, Boss.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wild story to celebrate the end of the semester.


End file.
